


The Ice Man's Comfort

by afteriwake



Series: In So Few Words [211]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comforting Greg Lestrade, Crying Mycroft Holmes, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, First Kiss, Hand Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Missing Scene, POV Mycroft Holmes, Relationship History, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Mycroft reflects on how lucky he is to have Gregory by his side.





	The Ice Man's Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Answering the prompt " _Reacting to the other one crying about something._ "

It wasn’t often he showed any sign of weakness. He was the Ice Man for a reason; he showed disdain, annoyance, boredom, and other such emotions, other such reactions, but _real_ emotions? Those hardly crossed his mind, let alone his face.

Last night, though...he couldn’t go through the horrors his sister had inflicted on him, on Sherlock and Dr. Watson, on the others at Sherrinford, without it making some impact on him. He curled into a slight ball on the bed, almost willing the tears not to fall from his eyes and the bile not to rise up his throat.

But almost as soon as he pulled away from the person he was currently sharing his bed with, there was a warm arm draping around his waist, a kiss pressed to his shoulder. The one person he could always trust to keep his sentiment safe was there, was comforting him, and it would all be well in the end.

He had no idea how they had become whatever they were, but over the years of trying to keep Sherlock on the straight and narrow and sober side of life, he had become well acquainted with Gregory. There had been times where they had shared drinks in Gregory’s office, where they had eaten at a greasy pub while they plotted on how to keep Sherlock from slipping, and soon they were friends, at the least.

He had opened up to Gregory early on, one night when there had been a particularly bleak moment in their task of keeping Sherlock healthy when they had almost lost him to a case in an opium den, that he was not exactly straight, but nor was he exactly gay, either. He didn’t feel much in the sense of attraction to anyone, in particular, a lie he had planned to hold true to, so long as it was Gregory he was talking to. Gregory, in turn, said there was a time when he was young that he was the type of punk who went home with the straight-laced businessmen who were slumming for a taste of the counterculture, and things had happened. He just loved his wife was all and had given up blokes for her.

Little had he known how that would work out, in the long run.

But this sharing of intimate information had given them a true friendship, and with Gregory, he could relax. Thaw a bit. And it was pleasant to have that outlet when all the world expected him to be as cold and immobile as an Arctic glacier. 

The first kiss had been an accident. It was only an accident, Mycroft had reasoned, because Sherlock had revealed during the ill-fated Christmas party that there was an affair. Not that Gregory hadn’t already known, but to have it thrown in his face had sent him into a tailspin, and there was a drunken visit after the affair with Irene Adler’s supposed body in the morgue and a kiss before he passed out in Mycroft’s arms. The hangover the next morning was horrid, and Gregory apparently didn’t remember pressing his lips to his and slipping his tongue into Mycroft’s open, willing mouth.

So be it. It was a mistake, after all. He never would have done to his wife what she had done to him.

But as time went on, their relationship changed, subtly. Gregory may not have remembered the kiss but his feelings became more muddied towards his wife. Mycroft became more distant as he dealt with his own feelings on the matter. And then he popped into the cavern that was his office, no ring on his ring finger, looking happy for the first time in ages and asking him over for dinner at his place, with Gregory cooking.

That hadn’t been all that long ago, and what they had settled into was nice. It was a comfort he craved and he was glad that Gregory was there now, had been there before, would be there in the future. As Mycroft’s tears ceased and he pulled Gregory’s hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his palm, he knew as long as Gregory was by his side, things would be alright in the end, whatever may come.


End file.
